


Subterfuge

by trancer



Category: Actor RPF, Glee RPF
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Masturbation, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where there's a will, there's a way. Lea has the will and she's found the perfect way!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subterfuge

Lea knows an autograph line in a full auditorium is neither the best time nor the best place to put her hand on her girlfriend’s thigh. But it’s been an entire week since she’s seen her. The table’s long, the tablecloth draped over it even longer. And, well, she hasn’t seen her girlfriend in over a week. Which, if they were like flies or mosquitoes or something, would be half a lifespan!

It just worked out this way - Lea and Dianna seated at the last table of the autograph row, practically in the corner, Dianna sitting on Lea’s left. It was an opportunity, one Lea took full advantage of.

Lea can feel Dianna’s skin warming under her touch. She keeps her hand there, lightly scraping the skin on the inside of Dianna’s thigh with her fingernails. She glances at her through the corner of her eye. Dianna’s starting to blush. She’s smiling widely. It’s not fake, just kinda.. forced. Like she wants to smile in a different way but can’t because there are, like, a billion people in the room.. with cameras.. and cell phones with cameras.

There’s a gap in the line, just a little, when no one’s really paying attention to either of them. Lea takes the opportunity to drift her fingers higher.

But instead of silk, satin or cotton, Lea’s fingertips meet skin - warm and very, _very_ wet skin. Dianna’s not wearing panties and she tenses just a little, like she never really expected Lea to do *that*, let alone *here*.

The line’s moving again. Lea quickly leans into Dianna, lips close to Dianna’s ear and she purrs throatily. “Slut.”

The blush on Dianna’s cheeks deepens but there’s nothing she can do about that now. The line’s started up again. More fans. More photos. All the while, Lea slowly strokes Dianna under the table.

There’s a fan talking to Dianna, asking some question about the show. Dianna shifts, kinda squirms in her seat, her legs opening as she does. Lea slips in her middle finger. Dianna clenches around her. Shivers.

“I’m sorry,” Dianna shakes her head, blinking her eyes at the fan. “What’d you say?”

The line continues. Lea quickens the pace, just a little. Dianna’s hands are shaking now. As she writes her name, the script becomes messier, until her name is signed with nothing but a couple of swoops, a swirl and a wavy line.

The line bottlenecks because Matthew, Cory and Mark are singing ‘I Wanna Sex You Up’ and nobody’s really paying attention to Lea and Dianna because Mark‘s taking off his shirt and things are about as gay at that table as it is at Dianna and Lea‘s. Dianna places her hands palms flat on the table, bows her head until her chin is practically resting on her chest, face obscured by the curtain of blonde hair falling off her face.

To anyone else, it just looks like she’s taking a breather, a moment to herself. Lea knows better. Dianna’s lips are pressed firmly together, eyes closed. The air’s being forced in and out of her nose, like she’s close to hyperventilating. Lea pushes her finger in deep, because Dianna’s slumped down in her chair a little, opened her legs a little wider. So Lea pushes her finger deeper, wiggles the tip back and forth, brushing it up against that spot. Dianna tenses, her body shuddering like she has brain freeze or something. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth as the tiniest of moans escapes her throat.

Lea withdraws her finger, gently caresses the folds as her baby comes down from the rafters she just floated up into. Dianna collects herself enough to open her eyes, turn her gaze towards Lea.

“You are soo dead,” she whispers forcefully through her still clenched teeth.

“As long as I go out with a smile,” Lea merely says. She pulls her hand out from under the table completely. And then, before the line starts again, before the eyes of the room are on them again, she takes her soaked middle finger and slowly draws it into her mouth. Dianna trembles so hard, Lea thinks she may have come again.

A half-hour later and the autograph session is finally over. Lea watches as Dianna rises onto still shaky legs, wrapping the sweater draped over the back of the chair around her waist because there’s now a bit-too obvious stain on her dress.

Lea steps towards her, drapes her arm loosely around Dianna’s waist. “You okay?” she says, smiling coyly, voice full of faux-concern, like she‘s nothing more than a concerned citizen helping an old lady across the street.

“Dead, Michele,” Dianna faux-smiles back at her. “So, so very dead.”

The wheels are already turning in Dianna’s mind. She doesn’t know how she’s going to get back at Lea. She just knows it will be soon. Very, very soon.

And it will also be very, very good.

END


End file.
